


They Make a Marvel of a Display

by RisingShadows



Series: So breathe deep [1]
Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff, It's Blakes mom, M/M, POV Outsider, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:34:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23321017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisingShadows/pseuds/RisingShadows
Summary: Her boy's come home. Though they don't come alone.
Relationships: Joseph Blake & Tom Blake, Tom Blake & William Schofield, Tom Blake/William Schofield
Series: So breathe deep [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719796
Comments: 6
Kudos: 98





	They Make a Marvel of a Display

They come home on one of the first transports. Her boys, Joseph is there first, he knocks at the door and smiles when she opens it and she can’t stop the tears that stain her cheeks as she pulls him into her arms. 

Joseph doesn’t cry, although she doesn’t miss the wet sheen that fills his eyes when they pull apart. Doesn’t miss the way his smile almost cracks apart as he looks down at her. 

There is something hard to him that wasn’t there before he left, that she knows has been steadily taking hold over the months. That she has seen since he first came home on leave and simply stood with her for hours. He hadn’t said much then, she doubt he’ll say much about the war now. 

But Joseph isn’t her only child, isn’t her only son and they wait with baited breath for the knock on the door they desperately hope will come. 

There is a chance after all, a chance Joe assures here is minimal, a chance that there will be no knock on the front door. A chance that a letter will come, soon perhaps but not soon enough and too soon all at once. 

There is a chance that only one of her boys will come back and she hopes, prays desperately to anyone that may hear her, that it won’t happen. 

The knock comes two days later. 

When she opens the door Tom is smiling, just as he always had. And there is another man at his side. Quiet and somber and so easy to place after all the letters she received from her youngest. 

And far too thin. Though that goes for the both of them. 

William Schofield apologizes for intruding just before she pulls him into a hug just as tight as the ones she’d given both of her sons. She almost laughs at the naked surprise that fills his face before he can hide it. 

Tom she’s surprised to find doesn’t laugh either. Even when she can see that his eyes have yet to leave the other's face. That even now, standing on the doorstep his hand still clutches at Schofields hand, fingers interlocked. 

Joe greets them with a similar treatment, pulling Tom into a tight hug and to the other man’s continued confusion doing the same to Schofield. The man offers another soft apology, lifts the hand Tom doesn’t have trapped in his clutches as he begins to offer to leave. Cut off by a wave of Joe’s hand as he grins at the two younger men. 

The living room hadn’t been this lively in more than a year and she had sorely missed the presence of her sons. Watching now, as Tom clutched at the other man’s arm, leaned into his side with a wide grin and a laugh, she found herself smiling. 

Listening to Tom’s stories, his free hand waving as he chattered on. She forgot for a time that she had spent so long without them. Listening to the softer murmur of the young man he had dragged home, she wondered what exactly Tom had found in the war. 

Exactly what he had dragged home with him, more than a simple friendship born of necessity and fear. Though she had known that from the letters. Tom cared far too much about one William Schofield to simply consider him a friend. (They were similar to the way Joe’s letters occasionally mentioned a Leslie.) Here, he didn’t even bother hiding just how enamored he was. 

Even though the stories were meant for her, for Joe, his eyes never left the other soldier. Especially not when he laughed, a soft subdued sound. 

And in a similar vein Schofield never once turned away from her chatter box of a son. No matter she was fairly certain he’d heard nearly all of these stories and more. It wasn’t like her son to stay quiet after all. Not when he could pass the time talking. 

There was something about the way they stood, Tom dragging Schofield to his feet and out the door that made her stop to watch. Joe laughing softly behind her as Tom dragged the other man towards the cherry trees. 

Turned with a wide smile visible through the window as he reached for Schofields free hand with his own. Swinging them lightly as he pulled, stumbling over roots with a carefree laugh as Schofield swayed just enough to catch him before he could tumble to the ground. 

Stepped forward with him and allowed himself to be pulled across the small field to stand beneath the cherry trees. 

Tom’s smile only grew wider as Schofield gave in on any chance of escaping whatever her son had planned. Dragging him further in only laughing louder when Myrtle shot off to join them. 

Joe’s hand on her shoulder drew her away from the window for only a moment. Turning to smile up at him as he joined her. Glancing out the window as Tom’s laughter echoed down to them once more. 

“Didn’t think he’d find someone in the middle of the front you know. But well, I don’t think Tom planned for it either.”

Laughing lightly herself she shook her head as she turned to take Joe’s hand in hers. 

“I don’t think it matters much where you find them or who they are. Love is love, if you find it at war, or peace.”

Looking back she breathed a sigh of relief, began to turn away, dinner wouldn’t make itself after all. But something drew her back. Cherry blossoms drifting down around them and the suns light at their back. 

They looked ethereal, like something more than soldiers returned from war. 

For a moment she stood there, breath caught in her throat. And then the moment passed, her son’s laughter filling her ears, echoing between the trees. 

They were home. 

And going by the laugh that still filled the air, Tom had found something more precious than she’d thought in the war. The letters had done it no justice compared to seeing them. Seeing the way they looked at each other. 

Two soldiers returned from the war, and even as she turned away they stood surrounded by the cherry blossoms and lit by the sun. Tom’s laugh echoing through the air, and if you strained your ears just enough, a softer laugh to match the other man.

Her boys came home, and maybe if she waited long enough, both would bring another home with them. 

Tom had already got the hint, it was only Joe she was waiting on now. 

**Author's Note:**

> This took so much longer than it should've and I have the start to three different fics written now that were supposed to be this and then you know didn't fit? I have no idea what was going through my head.... Clearly being locked in my house is getting to me. 
> 
> Writing Tom's mom was so much harder than I expected I couldn't figure out what I wanted her to do to save my life.


End file.
